Imperial Hilt (Imperial War Saga Book 2)

by Celinda Labrousse

  “It’s a warning.”

  Oscar beeped his approval.

  “What do we do with warnings?” she asked herself. “We go to Sergeant Dan with them.” And if she wanted to go somewhere, she had to bring her battle buddy.

  “Look at you,” she said as she shook Farmer. “You’re so tired you’re talking to yourself.” Oscar beeped in a huff.

  “I wasn’t trying to leave you out, Oscar,” she said. She really wasn’t. It had been cycles since she’d gotten a full night's sleep, but it didn’t make waking up after a few hours any easier.

  Oscar beeped again.

  “I know we need to get going,” she said, “I just need to wake Farmer so we can.”

  “Why?” Oscar beeped.

  “Because he’s my battle buddy.” Oscar sighed, spinning around in a dramatic fashion.

  “Farmer!” she yell-whispered. She didn’t want to cause a riot waking the whole platoon if she didn’t have to.

  “Farmer!” He stirred for a moment, yawned, then rolled over, taking his blanket with him over his head.

  “Farmer.” Miranda gave his back a hard shove. He swayed on the edge, as if he would fall off. Then he swayed back with a loud snore.

  The scream rang out again, drawing Miranda towards the door with its need.

  Oscar beeped.

  “What do you mean leave him? I can’t leave him.” She was yelling. Someone else in the room whimpered. If she wasn't careful she’d wake them all up. Since she was the only one hearing the distress call, they would not be happy with her. She dropped her voice back to a harsh whisper.

  Oscar whistled and whorled.

  “You’ll be my battle buddy?” she repeated back what he’d said as a question. Miranda tried to think about it. Tried to remember if a droid could be substituted for a human battle buddy. But between the lack of sleep and the cry that had woken her up, she wasn’t in her right mind.

  “I guess that works.” The little droid beeped at her.

  “I’m coming.” The sound started up again. Miranda fought it, refusing to cover her ears with her hands. But the pain...

  She glanced back at her bed and all her sleeping mates, the sound still ringing in her ears. None of them stirred. Taking a deep breath, she followed Oscar out into the night. She needed to find Drill Sergeant Dan.

  Chapter 12

  Miranda stepped out into full dark. It was one of those rare nights when the suns eclipsed each other, making the moon a sliver of itself. Miranda had to rely on Oscar’s lights to know where they were going.

  “Are we close?” Miranda walked with a purpose. If a night patrol found her, she wanted to look like a soldier on a mission. Getting shot wasn’t on her top ideals for experiences she lived through in BASIC.

  ‘Though it would fit in nicely with the ones I’ve already collected,’ she thought.

  She realized too late that they’d not ventured to the Drill Instructure’s quarters like she thought when her knee hit the edge of something hard. A low concrete wall. The voice had grown louder as they moved through camp. Miranda hadn’t thought it possible. Now, instead of a distress call, it was almost so loud as to be inaudible. Which Miranda took as a good sign.

  “Can you still hear it?”

  “Yes,” Oscar beeped. “This way.” He turned into a sand dune. They’d left the outer buildings behind, traveled through the parade field, and now were going in a direction Miranda had never gone.

  “Are you sure this is the way to the drill instructor quarters?” Miranda asked. The ground had turned from sandy to rocky. The area around them tilted upward in a climb.

  “This is the way,” Oscar beeped.

  “What’s out there?” she asked.

  “We need to go this way,” he beeped. They continued up the path. Miranda became more self conscious with every step. She couldn’t hear the voice anymore. And though it was dark and she was going slow, it felt more like a trap than going to get help.

  “This is BASIC,” she told herself. “It is to test your limits, make you a soldier.” And this was limit testing. She was exhausted. Her body has a walking ache. And it was getting harder to breathe.

  Oscar darted to the left, seeing something she couldn’t. Miranda followed, her feet hitting hard packed earth. It was a path. No more rocks or sand.

  “What is a path doing all the way up here?” She bent over to get a better look. But all she could see was black that glimmered in the light of the new moon.

  She was concentrating so hard that she failed to notice she wasn’t alone. Miranda ran head first into a wall of flesh.

  She stumbled back a step, her eyes wide. In front of her, blending perfectly with the stone, was an Ironside.

  “What are you doing out here,” they said in unison.

  “I asked you first,” they both replied at the same time.

  “Beep, beep, beep,” Oscar said, breaking their synchronization.

  “I heard a voice,” Miranda said. Eric, because that voice could only belong to Eric, hit a button on his armor. The camo function powered down, turning him into a silvery ghost.

  “And you went looking for it alone.” The metal of his armor clanged as he tucked his hands up under his armpits.

  “No,” she said mirroring his posture, “I went looking for help. And Oscar led me to you.”

  “Where is your battle buddy?” he asked.

  “Oscar volunteered to be my battle buddy,” she said.

  “Droids are not regulation battle buddies.”

  “Tell that to him.” Oscar beeped, telling him that.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Eric’s tone had a note of exasperation. “Especially without your battle buddy.”

  “He wouldn’t wake up.” Miranda looked down at her feet, unable to look into the sharp eye holes of the Ironside’s helmet.

  “It’s almost morning,” he said.

  From this height they could see the first sun cresting over the hill. It glimmered on the rocks, exposing a confidence course Miranda had never seen before. It looked something between a training course and an old vid picture set. The kind that had men in hats chasing bad guys through ruins to search down lost Lander tech for secret government agencies of old.

  “We haven’t got much time,” Eric said. He grabbed Miranda by the hand and headed farther into the ruins. The wind was cold this high up. A desert chill that sucked the water from your bones while making you shiver. It was then that Miranda realized she was still in her bed clothes and boots. She hadn’t bothered to grab her jacket or pants. If she wasn’t careful, she could be seriously injured from exposure.

  “You need to be back in the barracks before the sun rises.”

  She pulled her hand out of his. The ground went from the smooth stone of the ruins back to the rocks of the path. She needed to set her own pace, or she might go falling.

  “What I need is to find Sergeant Dan and report.” It came out breathy. Her lungs weren’t used to the higher elevation, and they were moving fast. The combination left her gasping for breath. If this was a real battle field the enemy would have shot her dead. She tried to move quieter and found herself falling behind.

  “No.”

  “Why ever not?” Miranda frowned. The incline had changed. The air became more breathable with every step. She wasn’t gasping anymore, at least.

  “That’s an order.”

  Miranda’s training kicked in. Her back stiffened. Her arms went to her side and her head tilted straight.

  “Yes, Drill Sergeant!”

  “Forget about tonight. Forget about what you heard. Tell no one. That’s an order.” Not that there was much to tell. She’d followed Oscar on an errand to get her drill instructor. They’d ended up finding Eric in a training ground. There was nothing secret about that. But her reflexes were still in action.

  “Yes, Drill Sergeant!” At the bottom of the hill where the rocks turned back into sand Eric ran. Miranda followed, unable to do anything else.

  They were
at the edge of the base. The light of the first sun hung in the sky as if it hadn’t moved an inch in the time it took to get there. People were stirring. She could see lights on in the cook house. Smell the fresh baking bread and the sweet tang of cooking ors butt. They were back in the training fields, but a different one from the normal one her company used. This one had a layer of fake grass that was tinted orange in the growing light.

  “Oscar, can you see her back to the barracks?”

  Oscar beeped yes, but Miranda used the opportunity to press Eric for answers.

  “He asked why you can’t do it,” she said.

  “He did, did he?” Eric looked at her. The cold stare of an Ironside helmet. He hit something on his chest and disappeared into the twilight.

  “Tell him that’s an order.”

  “Sir, yes sir,” Miranda said. She saluted thin air.

  Oscar had her back in time before reveille. As the days passed, their little adventure felt more and more like a dream. It might have faded from her mind completely if not for the nightly screaming.

  Chapter 13

  The punch came flying out of nowhere. One minute Sergeant Dan was instructing her on stance, the next she sidestepped just in time to not have her nose broken. The fabric of the holo gloves scraped her cheek. Farmer followed the right hook with a left, hitting her just below the ribs.

  “Oof.” She stumbled back a step, her arms dropping toward her side.

  “Get your guard up!” someone yelled. Miranda raised her hands in time to stop two quick jabs. Farmer followed them up with a right hook. Miranda fell her backside hit the earth. Sand spilled into crevices it didn’t belong in.

  “Again!” Sergeant Dan yelled. They went again. Over and over they fought, each bout ending with Miranda swimming in sand. That’s what these pits were for. Unlike the exercise pits outside the barracks that were used for extra training, these sand pits were to limit blow impacts for defense training.

  Each pair of fighters had their own eight by eight box. The box was outlined by four two by fours to make a fighting square. The rest was filled with the natural sand of the planet. The red orange grit that got into everything.

  “You know, Landers were said to take baths in this stuff.” Sergeant Wing regaled them with his knowledge of old Lander customs. “It’s supposed to make you all nice and clean. Again.”

  Miranda stepped forward, her guard up, ready for the volley of whatever Farmer would throw at her this time. Instead, he went in for a grapple. He put his foot behind hers and pushed, knocking her to the ground.

  Again she rose. This time, she charged him. Two quick punches to the stomach, and she was down again.

  “Farmer! Stop telegraphing! And keep your Lander-saken guard up!”

  Miranda stood to her feet. ‘You can do this,’ she said to herself.

  Farmer gave her a smug smile. “Had enough?”

  “Hardly, she said, and threw a punch directly at that smug smile.

  She overextended. Farmer stepped to the side, deflecting the blow with his right forearm. He followed this with a vicious left hook to the back of her jaw, sending her sprawling into the sand. As she rolled over, he stepped closer and began aiming kicks at her ribs.

  He kicked her again and again, her hands too tired to block the onslaught.

  “What’s the matter, Farmer?” he taunted. “Too tired? Decided to take a nap in the sand? Or do you enjoy being a punching bag?” He shifted, raising his foot to stomp her head.

  Miranda spun in the sand, catching his supporting leg between hers. There was a loud ‘pop’ as he hit the ground, screaming.

  “Enough!” Sergeant Dan said. She quickly ran over to assess Farmer’s leg. The knee started to swell, but his nanos were working rapidly to repair the damage. Soon he would be sore, but otherwise unaffected.

  “Get back in line.” Farmer obeyed faster, which meant Miranda earned a set of pushups, but given that she had got him on the ground just once, she didn’t mind the pushups all that much.

  The days passed. Workouts, fighting skills, bayonet training, war history, all blurring into a line that Miranda couldn’t tell apart. So she was surprised when Eric called her back into his “office” at the end of the week.

  “Report,” Eric told her. The room hadn’t changed; it was still stark and everything an old military hospital closet/office area should be. Oscar sat at her feet, beeping away. She ignored him because, like her, he had no new information; just a theory with no proof. Miranda was tired of hearing it.

  “Oscar, shut up.” The little droid beeped once and went quiet. Ever since his little disappearing act the night of the third attack, they had been at odds. It wasn’t as much his fault as it was hers. She was having a hard time forgiving him, God forgive her. His disappearance had been the catalyst for reality to come crashing down on her. When he’d shown up the next day he hadn’t had any explanation for his absence. Correct that, he refused to tell her why he’d disappeared. So the two of them weren’t really communicating at the moment.

  Eric waited patiently, hands flat on the desk, for her to give her report.

  “Nothing new,” she said. She drummed her own fingers, looking over her shoulder at the door. They’d done this once a week. She knew that the Ironsides were taking this seriously. Looking into all the possible suspects. These interrogations were a good time for her to share what she’d found, but the evidence was lacking.

  “Someone found a battery attached to the barb wire by a buried cable.” she said. “Big enough to power a barrack for three days. But nothing about why my rifle exploded.” She didn’t mention the fact that they hadn’t issued her another one yet. They would get around to it. It was the Empire, they always got around to it. Eventually.

  “We know, it’s been removed.”

  “Then you know what I know,” she said, crossing her arms. He nodded once, clearly dismissing her.

  “I want you to be careful,” Eric told her. “We have reason to believe that your squad is the one being targeted, and that these were just tests.”

  “Tests? As in plural?” She must have looked dubious because he nodded again.

  “Yes, a practice run for something much bigger.”

  “Bigger? The whole platoon could have been taken out with that battery! Not to mention my weapon going off.” There, she’d said it. She had opened the doors and now what was to be her reward? She waited for the poop jokes. She’d been getting them all week from every member of the platoon, including Farmer.

  Eric’s face remained unchanged. Ok, maybe he would remain the exception.

  “What do you want me to do?” she said at last.

  “Hang tight. Keep your eyes and ears open.” It was Miranda’s turn to nod.

  The heartache she felt over losing her life had dimmed down to a dull ache. It melded with the physical pain all the rope courses and training exercises left her in. Not to mention the early morning physical training. But all of that was life here, and her body and mind were starting to get used to it.

  She wanted to ask him what day it was. Or how many more until graduation, but Oscar was being a pest.

  “Oscar wants me to tell you that he found a cave,” she said, giving her droid a dirty look.

  “That’s nice, now return to your barrack.”

  “See, I told you he wouldn’t take it seriously,” Miranda beeped at the droid. Oscar slunk back and forth. “Telling him that wouldn’t make any difference.”

  “I’m right here.” Eric set his arms over his chest, looking from the girl to the droid. He settled a look on Miranda. “Talk.”

  Oscar beeped off a list of stuff so fast Miranda had a hard time keeping it all straight to translate it.

  “He wants me to tell you that it was near where we found you all those nights ago.” Eric’s back went rigid.

  “And?”

  “And it's an amplification device of some kind.” Oscar was still going, but Miranda couldn’t make it out. He was wheeling around the roo
m, his words making no sense. She didn’t want the little droid talking about first and original code and marked traps to scare Eric so she said, “And something about a box.”

  “That’s all?”

  Miranda shrugged. She wasn’t going to say the other stuff.

  “He’s talking so fast I can’t understand most of it.”

  “So?”

  “It’s gibberish. Something to do with...” She stopped to listen to what Oscar was saying, “a wall of words and the language of the long dead.”

  She looked at the droid, reading his beep signals, not just the tones of his beeps.

  “No, not the long dead, something about the language of sleep.”

  She stopped staring at the droid and focused her attention back on the Ironside.

  “It’s gibberish, and I didn’t want to share it with you. But he,” Miranda pointed an accusing finger at her wayward droid, “said it was important. Said that’s where he went when he was missing.” She still hadn't forgiven him for that. She wanted to stare him down, but being a droid he would have won. Eric might have been a friend, but this was still an interrogation and she was the one being interrogated. She couldn't relax so much as to show her aggravation at her droid.

  “He thinks that it might be tied to the murders. However that might be.”

  “You don’t know.” Eric finished her statement for her.

  “Exactly,” she added, needing to get the last word. Of the three of them she felt the most foolish. Oscar had stopped beeping. If droids could be out of breath, his power light would be panting.

  “Do I have your leave to return to duty?” Miranda asked. She crossed her fingers. She was too tired to want to get into whatever was coming. It had been cycles since she had a real rest.

  “Yeah, sure,” Eric said, deep in thought. Miranda didn’t move.

  “You are dismissed,” he said at last.

  Miranda shot off a quick salute and made for the door before Eric could call her back. She sighed when it clicked behind her.